


Written by Tsumugi Shirogane

by Birdette



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Internal Monologue, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Pre-Game Shirogane Tsumugi, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 08:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16719660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdette/pseuds/Birdette
Summary: Late at night Tsumugi is thinking about what she wants V3 to be and starts to second guess herself.Briefly betaread and proof read. Please point out any grammatical and spelling errors you find, thanks :)edit- thx for 53 reads xd





	Written by Tsumugi Shirogane

**Author's Note:**

> First fic so sorry if it's shite

Written by Tsumugi Shirogane

"I've even thought of my execution. Something fitting of an 'Ultimate Detective'" Click

Tsumugi leaned back in her office chair, the sound of years of denied maintenance echoing throughout the dimly lit room that was what she had been calling home for the past few days. This was the 4th time she had watched this 'Saihara's' audition tape. He was quite something, that was for certain, but what exactly she could not put her finger on. The faint buzzing of the surrounding monitors accompanied the constant whirring of her overworked computer in a calm symphony that she had grown to hate, tolerate and accept with time. It was obviously crying out in protest of the dust that had collected on its insides over its years of use and abuse, but she had neither the time not energy, let alone the expertise, to dare lay a finger on it. 

The ceiling fan span in an hypnotic motion as she blankly stared up at it, she had already gained all the inspiration she could from the ineffective fan blade. Her writers block practically hanging in the air, mimicking the abandoned cobwebs draping the corners of the room. Looming just over her head as an almost taunt again her. She couldn't afford writer's block. No one can afford to be making those kind of mistakes at Team Danganronpa, and she had a lot to prove. A red, ominous circle marked a fast approaching date on her desk-top calendar, the implications behind it forming a pit in her empty stomach. The due date for the rough-version of the next Danganronpa's script. She'd had weeks that felt like hours or years depending on the time of day. 

'Maybe I could try and work hypnosis in somewhere' she thought to herself. Even her subconscious sounded monotone at this point. "like half way through the show a character should just change personality, at least it would be an excuse to use the flashback lights again, god knows I spent enough on prop design for them and..."

She had barely noticed that she'd started talking aloud and trailed off, her thoughts echoing against the drab, grey walls of her hard earned office, her voice horse and dry from lack of use. It's not like anyone was around to hear her confused ramblings, everyone had long gone home by this point. Glancing at the bottom left of her computer she let out a deep sigh of defeat, sinking lower into herself. 5:00am on the dot. How long has it been since she actually wrote anything for the script? Reaching up to her taped up glasses with shaky hands, she rest them by the empty coffee pot and proceeded to press her palms into her eyes, releasing as they started to water. 

This job was going to kill her. Regardless of whether or not it is her dream job, it will kill her none the less.  
Whether she died here in this stuffy office, or in the fate she had written for herself in Chapter 6 of her passion project, this job would kill her. And that's just the way she wanted it. Right? 

"No it's too late to second guess myself now" she declared to no one in-particular, attempting to convince only herself. 'I have to make Junko proud' she thought to herself. Junko had been long dead but it was certain that her spirit lived on in all those who fuelled the new generation of killing games. If only she could see things now. Would she truly approve? A society run in peace save for small doses government regulated despair? Is that what her dream was? Organised chaos doesn't sound right. Despair was a cause she was willing to kill and die for over and over again, she's a hero in that sense. She died in the most honourable way she could. Many can only dream of a death that grandiose and impactful. 'she was toppling the entire world order when she was my age, and I cant even think of some colourful curses for this 'Miu Iruma' girl' Tsumugi mulled to herself, punctuating it with a scoff out loud, again directed at nothing in particular except for perhaps her on self proclaimed incompetence. 

She remembered sitting in History class, opening up her battered textbook to page 47 specifically under the Chapter name 'The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History' and staring at figure 1 - 'Junko Enoshima, Hopes Peak Academy'. Just taking in everything the image had to offer, her playful smile, her piercing yet welcoming eyes, her stance that oozed confidence. She already had this chapter memorised by heart but none the less she proceeded to gloss over the well-read page, ensuring she retained every detail. One of the other figures showed a picture of Hopes Peak Academy. The things she would have done to even seen Hopes Peak when it was in a better state, the renovations certainly took something away from the magic of the place, and the tacky gift shop at the end just made room for the tacky greed that proceeded the future of the legacy. To stand where Junko brutally killed her twin sister Mukuro in the name of despair, to walk round the podiums where the first class trials pushed the original 15 (though technically 16) were pushed to their mental limits, to be in the presence of her genius. Would be something to kill and die for.

She snapped out of her reminiscent daze, re-fixing her wonky glasses to her face, only for them to immediately slide down her nose as she lowered her head in defeat. This is despair right? This is what she's been asking for. So why isn't it everything she dreamed? Again trying to re-adjust herself to reality, she assured herself that the despair she'll experience at the end of her story will truly be all she dreamed of.

Some people claimed that Danganronpa had lost it's way, a Tsumugi had to agree. Dissolved into nothing more than a cash grab, lost sight of Junko's message. Danganronpa shouldn't be about the money or fame. It should be about "Despair" Tsumigi's voice exclaimed in unison with this 'Saihara'.

Blinking a few times to clear her clouded vision and matching head she was struck with an epiphany. That's right. This guy understands. This guy truly understands what Dangaronpa should be about, what V3 will be about. 

"Despair" she played the video again. The teen's face lit up with euphoria as he said the word, like each syllable gave him a sense of purpose.  
"Despair" his cheeks are flushed with a rosy pink that reaches his ears from the excitement  
"Despair" his pearly whites spread in a genuine smile at the concept of being on Danganronpa, of continuing her legacy. And before she knew it, Tsumugi was replicating its manic smile. "He understands. No one else does. But he does. There may be hope yet for Junko's legacy"

"Shuichi Saihara. Let's create despair that we can all be proud of. Together...

**Author's Note:**

> thinking of a follow up that I may or may not write lmao


End file.
